Valentine
by Alexia-Starr
Summary: When Dr. Darien Stanley discovers the one night stand from Valentine's Day has given birth to his baby, he must figure out a way to keep his new family. Even if that does mean putting up with strong-willed Serena . . .
1. Back Again w Quick Message

Hi, everyone! I'm back to writing again, so I figured I'd start off with reposting _Valentine_ with a bit of a rewrite. I'm hoping to tackle the beast that is _The Belle of Georgia _as well.  Thanks so much for reading, and I hope I have regular updates for you!

XO

Alexia


	2. The One Night Stand Returns

**The One Night Stand Returns**

Darien Stanley glanced down one final time at the chart clutched in his hand and took a generous sip of cool coffee. He grimaced at the bitter taste, smacking his lips together.

His colleague, Amy, had called in because of a family emergency, and she wouldn't be able to assist the patient she'd guided through an agonizing delivery the night before. Darien—who'd been going off duty—had witnessed the girl's cries for an epidural from down the hall.

_Well Serena Joyce, let's see if you're in any better shape_. He knocked on the door and entered after he heard an invitation.

"Serena?" he asked the woman sitting in the rocker, holding the blue-swaddled baby. When he'd gone over the chart, he had learned that his new patient was a 20-year-old who had conceived on Valentine's Day. Even though the woman in the chair was attractive—practically a milf in Darien's opinion—it was obvious she was in her mid-forties.

The woman smiled brightly, and her short dark hair fluttered around her face as she shook her head. "No. I'm Irene Joyce, her mother. The nurse is helping Rena take a shower."

Darien returned her expression with a grin as he padded across the laminate floor. He leaned over a bit to take a look at the tiny bundle in Irene's arms. "And this must be the little Valentine's baby."

He vividly recalled his own Valentine's Day. It had been right after his break up with Emily Beryl, and he had gone to a bar with Andrew. He also remembered the hot, curvy blonde he had taken to his penthouse at Stanley Inns, the hotel his father owned.

"Selena," she had whispered in his ears when he asked her name. She'd draped her arms around his bare shoulders, intoxicating him with that sweet smelling perfume. Her lacy panties had been around one of her ankles, scratching his back when she'd wrapped endless legs around his waist.

She hadn't left a number, and he was still sorry about that.

Irene nodded, lifting an eyebrow. "Obviously he is, Dr. . ."

"Stanley," he provided.

"Dr. Stanley, I would like to introduce you to Ashton Joyce, my first grandchild." She proudly held the baby up for Darien to see, and he had to admit that the boy was one of the most handsome babies that he'd ever seen at Crossroads Hospital.

Darien smiled. "He looks like I did when I was born. My mother said she had never seen so much black curly hair on a baby . . . What color eyes does he have?"

"They're obviously going to be blue. But the oddest shade. My daughter's eyes are sapphire," she said, keeping her attention focused on the tiny face poking out of the blankets.

He was about to reply but was interrupted by a strained voice coming from the bathroom door.

"Dude, it feels like someone beat me in the stomach and stuck a bat in my . . . Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone else was in here," Serena Joyce said.

Darien turned, expecting to see a girl with dark hair like Irene Joyce. Instead, she was blonde. And he knew her. Or, at least his body knew her. His mouth hung open as he realized that this girl—the one flushing under his intense gaze—was the one from Valentine's. "Selena?"

She dragged her shoulders to her ears, shuffling bare feet against the cold floor. It looked as if she were counting to ten then she sighed. "You never said you were a doctor."

Irene looked completely confused. "You two know each other?" She recoiled when both Darien and Serena shot her a glare.

The blonde bobbed her wet head and managed a shaky smile. "I'm Serena, by the way."

Darien smiled, but it was icy. _She fucking lied to me. _His eyes darted down to the baby, and he couldn't mistake the choked gasp that came from Serena. He tilted his head to the side and saw the child with new eyes as he counted months in his head. It was November, and he clenched his fists. He'd met her nearly nine months ago.

His voice was clear—_calm_—when he spoke. But he wanted to yell at her, despite her mother's burning gaze darting between them. He motioned to the baby in Irene's arms and sneered. "I suppose Serena is the name I should use when I take you to court for custody?"

The color drained from Irene's face as she realized the full extent of what was going on. "Oh wow . . ."

Serena gasped and stalked close to him. "You wouldn't!"

Darien spoke through clenched teeth. "I'm a very wealthy man, Miss Joyce. I enjoy children, and my parents have no grandchildren. I suppose that we'll need to settle this soon."

Serena appeared shaken by his words. "Can you at least let me get dressed? I'm cold, and I think it's in your _job_ description to be courteous."

"I'll return in five minutes. I don't care if you're dressed or not. Remember, I've seen you naked, _Selena_."

With those words he strode to the door, slamming it behind him. The baby woke with a high-pitched cry, and Serena looked as if she had seen the devil.

"He's serious," Irene mumbled.

Serena blinked back tears. "I think he is. . ."


	3. Problems

**Problems**

Darien could hardly believe that the demure blonde propped against the pillows was the same one who'd dug her fingers into his skin only nine months before. The same one who'd writhed beneath him and splayed her hands across his bare chest. His eyes were hard—icy—as he paced in front of the bed, and he watched a pretty pink flush creep up her neck.

"You can't take him," she whispered, pulling the baby closer.

Darien dragged a shaky hand through his hair and snorted. He wanted to ask her what kind of job she had—where she and the baby would live. Instead, he shook his head. "You're only twenty-years-old."

"Younger girls take care of babies."

_Yes, and they usually fail miserably_. He counted to ten then said, "Not my baby."

Her eyebrows knitted together, and he winced at her pained expression as she shimmied to the edge of the bed. Placing Ashton in the clear bassinet, she ignored Darien. After a few moments, she cleared her throat and smoothed the blankets over the boy. When she glanced up and caught him staring down at the baby, her lips thinned into a pale line. "How do you know he's yours?"

_Good point_, he thought. Maybe he was jumping to conclusions, but the baby did look unmistakably like him. Hadn't he just compared the child to himself just moments before he discovered that Selena—_Serena_—was the mother? Darien leaned against the armoire and pretended to be interested in the back of his hand. "Were you whoring around with other men who looked like me?"

She gasped and he had to admit, he was pleased as fat tears trickled down her cheeks. "That's not fair, _Doctor._"

Of course it wasn't fair, but lying wasn't either. And she'd obviously lied to him. He resumed pacing, his face reddening with each step he took. "You told me your name was Selena. You told me you were twenty five, and"—he looked up, scratching his head—"why the hell were you drinking anyway if you're only twenty?"

_Oh, great_, Serena thought, _way to call me on the fake ID_. She'd gone to the bar on Valentine's Day to meet up with an ex-boyfriend. It was only after she'd downed four or five drinks that she realized Mike had no plans of showing up.

Then she'd locked eyes with the sexy guy staring at her from across the room, and the rest of the night had been sweaty, blurry, _mind-blowing_ history.

Now, grimacing under his glare, she decided that she liked him better when he was moaning her fake name and covering her mouth and throat with kisses. She could handle lust but definitely not anger. Never anger.

"Nothing to say, _Selena_?"

She couldn't figure out what he wanted her to say. Maybe he was expecting sorry, but she wasn't too sure if he deserved to hear that. After all, he was practically a stranger. _A stranger who knows my body—who knows every curve and flaw,_ she thought. "I'm not a whore," she hissed, wringing her hands together. Her watery blue eyes lowered to her lap, and she picked a piece of lint off the fleece blanket. "And I don't want your help."

Darien could care less what she wanted. He'd been taught not to shirk his responsibility, and this was a big one. A living, breathing responsibility. "Can I hold him?" Her head popped up in surprise, but she nodded. After delivering so many babies, it was amazing to Darien that this boy—his son—would feel so tiny and delicate in his arms.

But he did.

And that scared Darien. Ashton had taken the dark edge from his mood for just a moment, but it slunk back, and Darien fought to control his breathing. "Why didn't you come to me?" he growled. She recoiled, flinching at the pain that pounced through her sore body.

"I didn't know who you were—all I got was a first name, and . . ."

"It was a penthouse, Serena. Why didn't you ask the concierge?"

To be honest, she'd asked herself the same question on countless occasions over the past several months. And each time her inner-voice had pleaded with her, she'd shot it down. She simply shrugged and frowned. "I-I-I don't know." Her sigh was tremulous as he lay Ashton back down and sat next to her. She tried not to scream hysterically when Darien's hand stroked her hair back. _Why is he torturing me?_

"You really are beautiful," he murmured.

She shuddered and pushed his hand away. "Don't do that."

He smiled, but his eyes were blank. "You never pushed me away that night." She didn't answer him, and he continued, "I'll need time to think about this—about you and Ashton." Even though his hand lifted to her cheek again, she didn't push him away. "I'll have to tell my girlfriend and family."

Her head bobbed faster, and she watched him skulk from the room. When the door slammed behind him, she jumped.

***

Delilah Stanley took another sip of her soda and slammed the sweating can on the wooden coffee table. "A baby?" she asked again. She shuddered when her older brother glared at her, but quickly recovered with a broad smile. "I want to see him!"

Darien leaned forward in the chair and rested his forehead in his hands. "Mom's going to freak." He ignored the annoying clucking noises coming from the seventeen-year-old and rolled his eyes as she danced over to him. She sat on the arm of his seat.

"Mom and Dad like babies," she pointed out.

"And Emily?"

Delilah grunted and mumbled something, though Darien swore he heard the word 'hoebag' slip from her lips. "Maybe she'll finally go away," Delilah suggested, her eyes bright.

"Not funny, Del." He playfully punched her knee and sighed. "I don't know what to do." And he didn't. The drive across town to his parents sprawling manor had only increased his worries. Now, a dull throb had settled between his eyes, and he could barely think.

"Delilah, I thought you were doing . . . Darien, I didn't realize you were here." Katherine Stanley stood at the doorway. Darien stood, despite his headache, and dropped a kiss on his petite mother's forehead. He was fifteen years older than Delilah, but Katherine looked he same as she had when he was seventeen.

When Darien pulled back, his mother glanced between Delilah and him. He cast a glare over is shoulder and the Cheshire Cat grin left his sister's face. "Just stopped by for a few minutes before going home."

Katherine sank into the chair Darien had been sitting in and waved Delilah away. Much to Darien's disappointment, his sister plunked down across from them on the couch and popped her knuckles. "What's going on, Darien?" his mom asked.

"He has a baby," Delilah blurted. She clapped her hands over her mouth when two sets of blue eyes faced her.

Katherine lifted an eyebrow. "Come again?" She didn't move a muscle as Darien recounted some of his tale about meeting Serena. Once he was finished, she leaned forward and her shoulders shook. At first, he thought she was sobbing. He was on the verge of wailing like a bitch himself. But Katherine's eyes danced when she looked at him.

"Can we see him?"

***

He wasn't sure if it was a good idea to take both Delilah and his mother to visit Serena, but they'd insisted. Repeatedly. Despite the puzzled stares from his co-workers, he knocked on Serena's door and a shiver coursed down his spine when her melodic voice invited them in.

Delilah's grin returned as she and Serena contemplated each other and finally, she spoke. "I thought you had better taste than _him_, Sere."

Darien nearly crushed his fingers as he closed the door.


End file.
